


Stiles Takes Care of Puppy Derek

by Doteruna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Babysitter Stiles Stilinski, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, De-Aged Derek, Derek's turned into a wolf puppy, I'm bad at this, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, They can be dicks, Witches, Wolf!Derek, puppy derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doteruna/pseuds/Doteruna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p><p>An annoyed witch turns Derek into a wolf puppy, and Stiles is the only one who can take care of him until it wears off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles Takes Care of Puppy Derek

There was a blinding flash, a loud bang, the smell of burning dirt, and smoke.  
A lot of smoke.  
When it cleared, the witch they'd been 'negotiating' with (ie: growling at) had disappeared, and instead, Stiles had a tiny lump of black fur in his lap. Looking around, he could see Scott, Jackson, Lydia, and Danny shaking their heads to clear away the bright flash, and Erica, Isaac and Boyd snfifing the air thoughtfully. Stiles tried to stand, only for the lump to tumble to the ground with a loud yowl. He jumped back, then crouched down as the small wolf pup untangled itself to stand on clumsy legs. It blinked up at Stiles, then sneezed, it's whole body shaking with the effort.   
Stiles almost cooed despite the circumstances.   
"What the hell is that doing here?" Scott mutters as he finally drags himself over, raking a hand through his shaggy hair. "That stupid witch is just gone. No scent, nothing. And where's Derek?"   
The pup perks up and stares at Scott, who squats down next to Stiles as the rest of the pack wanders over, curious. They circle around the pup, who was barely bigger than a really fat cat, with dark fur and huge hazel-green eyes. It snuffled, and when Erica sniffed the air again, yipped in a tinny, high-pitched bark.   
"Uhhh....is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking?" Stiles said, sticking out his hand for the pup to smell.   
"Definitely," Erica agreed, and Scott slapped himself in the forehead.  
"Are you kidding me?" he groaned. "Derek got turned into a puppy by that crazy invading witch?"   
"It totally looks like him, Scotty," Stiles let the pup sniff at his fingers and then chomp on one with small teeth.   
"It smells like him, too," Isaac chimed in. "I'm pretty sure that's Derek."  
The puppy ignored all of them in favor of wobbling around, sneaking out through Boyd's legs and following his wet nose to the small crater where the witch had teleported from, scorched earth marking his exit. Furry Derek moved past it after a minute to investigate the rest of the clearing while the pack watched, fascinated and more than a little amused.  
"Well, what the hell do we do?!" Stiles exclaimed. "Your Alpha is a puppy, shouldn't you guys be more concerned?"  
"Sure, we're worried," Jackson snickered. "But look at him. He's hilarious."  
One tiny paw dips into a puddle and Derek's whole body flips, flinging himself away from the water with a yelp.  
"Okay, I'm calling Deaton," Stiles declared, whipping out his cell phone.

 

"....Sorry, can you say that again?" Stiles demands, rubbing his temples. Deaton sighs.  
"Someone's going to have to care for him until he grows into adulthood," he repeats. "He's currently got accelerating aging, so it shouldn't take more than a few weeks, but his mind is that of an animal's for all intents and purposes. He'll probably smarten up if he spends a lot of time around the Pack, but he won't be Derek again until his body reaches maturity."  
"And how do you know this, exactly?" Lydia questions, inspecting her nails.   
"It's a relatively common curse, not lethal or anything. Just used to irritate your opponents," Deaton tells her.   
"Okay, so we leave him here until he's Derek again," Jackson says, but Deaton's already shaking his head.  
"I don't have enough space for a pup that's going to grow into a full-sized wolf in a couple weeks," he explains. "I can provide some food and care tips, but that's it. One of you will have to keep him until he turns back."  
"Shit," Scott mutters. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac are all out because they live with their parents or foster parents half of the time, and Derek's rebuilt house the other half. Jackson scoffs and refuses, Lydia looks remorseful but says she can't have her Pomeranian near a wolf pup, and Scott's mother didn't have the room, same as Deaton. Danny's parents were both allergic, and Stiles realizes with a leaden stomach that he's the only one who could even fathom taking Derek.

 

Which is how Stiles ends up on his stomach in his living room, watching a puppy-fied Derek inspect the room. His tiny paws catch on the carpet until he learns how to walk without digging them in, and he prances around excitedly whenever he smells something good. Luckily for Stiles, John is helping with a case in San Francisco, so it'll be at least a week or two until he's back. Unluckily for Stiles, he's never had a dog before, so this is going to be tough.  
"Hey, dumbass, stop poking at the TV wires," Stiles mumbled as he twists a plastic chew toy between his fingers. Of course, Derek doesn't listen, so Stiles tosses the toy towards him. Derek's huge ears swing around before his head does, and he pounces on the plastic with so much enthusiasm Stiles can't help but grin. Quiet snuffles and yips emanate from the furry lump, and Stiles pushes himself off the ground to start making dinner. Derek follows him immediately, nipping at his heels and squirming in between his legs as he walks to the kitchen.   
Deaton gave Stiles about a week's worth of wolf-worthy food, but when Stiles looks down from his plate of chicken enchiladas, there are two big green eyes watching him with as much sadness as a room full of crying orphans and ignoring the bowl of food Stiles had set out for him. Stiles gets another three bites in before the guilt overwhelms him and he tears the enchilada in half, nearly losing the tip of his finger as tiny but sharp puppy teeth snatch the chicken.   
"You know, you are much less intimidating when you're the size of my backpack," Stiles tells him later that night. Stiles is on the couch, surfing the internet on his laptop, and Derek is destroying the chew toy on the ground next to the cushions with glee. He pauses when Stiles speaks, but goes back to munching when Stiles doesn't move. After a few minutes, Stiles lets his hand drop over the side of the couch, and nearly squeals when he feels a cold, wet nose bump against it. He scratches Derek's head, then his belly when the pup rolls over, only half-thinking about the rules of submission real-Derek had told him once about showing your belly. 

Two hours later, and Stiles is almost asleep in his bed when he hears whining. He rolls over to see Derek on his hind paws by his shut window, bracing himself on the sill and making mournful whimpers and cries before circling to Stiles' bed, yanking on the blanket corner to see if he's awake, and going back to the window before repeating.   
"Derek?" Stiles mumbles, and Derek streaks over to where he's leaning over the edge of the bed, whimpering. He doesn't look scared, and Stiles knows he doesn't have to go outside so he's confused. Derek's just whining and wriggling and pawing at the the blanket, so Stiles reaches down and hefts Derek up onto his bed. Immediately, Derek quiets, snuggling down underneath the blanket and pressed against Stiles' torso. Stiles knows he shouldn't let Derek sleep on the bed because of basic puppy-training videos, but come on, it's Derek, not just some dog.   
So Stiles just lays back down and lets Derek get comfortable on the mattress, and realizes that Derek is actually just a small furry furnace, so he closes his eyes and doesn't worry about it.

 

He's woken by small teeth gnawing at his elbow, and he fumbles around until the blanket's only half-on the bed and Derek zips away, out the bedroom door and down the stairs before Stiles has even sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. He pads downstairs to let Derek outside into the backyard and realizes belatedly that it's a good thing he's on summer break, because it isn't even six o'clock and Stiles is so going back to bed as soon as Derek's done peeing.   
Breakfast is a simple affair three hours later, with cereal and more wolf chow that Derek chooses over Chex. Scott drops by with some more supplies from Deaton half an hour after that, including a leash and collar. Stiles doesn't want to use either, but Derek is too energetic not to take on walks and he's too stupid right now to not get hit by a car, so collar it is. Beacon Hills is just starting to wake up around him as he takes Derek to the school and back, but halfway through the walk back, Stiles realizes that Derek hasn't moved more than four feet away from him, never pulled on the leash, never stepped off the sidewalk. And there really aren't that many cars, and Derek's been obedient so far, so Stiles figures what the hell and unsnaps the collar.   
He actually half-expects Derek to take off and try to kill a rabbit or something. You know, wild wolf behavior, but nope, Derek just slobbers all over his hand and butts his head against Stiles' calf to keep him moving. They only see one other person on their walk, a girl Stiles vaguely recognizes from school, out jogging, and he manages to pass Derek off as a very hairy, fang-y puppy until they get home. Derek takes two tries to make it up onto the couch, and Stiles can't stop the laughter after Derek's first failed attempt to launch himself into the air. He showers and ends up on the couch with Derek curled into a ball on his chest, fidgeting every few minutes but fast asleep. 

 

That's actually how John finds them, almost two weeks later. He's got a suitcase in each hand, barely managing to unlock the front door and kick it further open. He walks past the living room before he stops, sets down the suitcases, and backs up, because there is a giant black wolf draped over his son, both of them fast asleep on the couch.  
No, scratch that, the wolf is awake, and staring at him with bored green eyes from underneath Stiles' chin.  
"Um," John gets out. "Stiles?"  
Nothing but a snore from his son, and the huge black blanket doesn't deign to wake Stiles up either, so John raises his voice.  
"Stiles!"  
Stiles jolts awake with an aborted shout, legs and arms flailing wildly from where his torso is trapped underneath the wolf. It's pretty funny looking actually, but John really just wants answers, and he waits until his son orients himself and glances over.   
"Oh, heyyyyy, Dad," he says casually. "What's up?"  
"Stiles," John says.   
"Yup?" Stiles replies, popping the 'p', and John rubs his forehead.  
"Why the hell is there a wolf on top of you?" he asks, hands on his hips like a stern father would. Stiles laughs nervously.  
"Well, now, that's a really good question, really," Stiles flusters, but stops as the wolf snuffles into his neck, licks him once, and rolls off the couch to land on all fours on the ground. He moves up to John, who stands stock-still, figuring if it didn't maul his son, it probably didn't want to maul him either.   
"So, um, this is a great story, Dad, trust me." Stiles stands up and rests a hand on the wolf's back, and the animal is so larget that Stiles' elbow is bent almost ninety degrees to pet his head. "Sooooooo........why don't you put your stuff away before I tell you? It's a pretty long story."  
All in all, not the weirdest thing John has come home to, so he agrees and goes upstairs to unpack. 

"Dude, Derek, I totally forgot he was coming home today," Stiles groans as he buries his face into Derek's shoulder, scratching his hands through the soft fur. Derek just huffs and takes a step towards the kitchen, but then he falters and almost trips. Stiles looks up in alarm as Derek's next step sends him crashing to the ground, side heaving as the werewolf tries to drag in breaths. He whines, then barks, spine arching painfully before the fur starts to shift, receding into the skin. Stiles watches in awe as Derek-the-Wolf becomes Derek-the-Human again, muzzle shrinking down into a regular nose and paws lengthening into hands. After a painful-looking minute, Derek Hale is laying naked on his living room carpet, breathing heavily and eyes wide. He grips the carpet with his fingers before looking up at Stiles, mouth hanging open.   
"Stiles?" he gasps, and Stiles heaves a sigh of relief.  
"Oh my god, dude, you have no idea how stressful the last two weeks have been for me," he vents.   
"You watched me pee," Derek says, still breathing hard and confirming that yep, he remembered everything that happened whilst he was furred and fanged. "Holy shit, you let me sleep on your bed with you."   
They stared at each other for a few seconds before someone cleared their throat very loudly, and they both whipped around.  
"Did I just watch a wolf turn into Derek Hale?" John asks faintly, still standing on the last step of the stairs. Derek's speechless, jaw hanging open, and his expression of shock is almost as adorable as it was when he was a puppy.   
"Well, no, you watched Derek Hale go from wolf form to human form," Stiles clarifies, and Derek groans, letting his head hit the carpet again as John sputters and sags against the wall. 

 

"And that's how my Dad found out about werewolves," Stiles finishes, stealing a chip from Scott's bag. "At least I don't have to lie to him anymore. It was getting stressful."  
"So how did Derek take the news that you took him on walks every morning?" Scott wonders as they make their way to the parking lot of the school, done for the day. "Is he still talking to you? Where's your Jeep?"  
"He's doing one better than talking to me," Stiles grins as a sleek black Camaro pulls up, opening the door. "Hello, my furry little fiend, you."   
"Shut up, Stiles," Derek mutters, but he's smiling as Stiles plops himself into the car and pulls the door shut, rolling the window down.  
"See you later, Scott," Stiles waves goodbye, and Scott swears he sees Derek intertwine his fingers with Stiles' as they drive away.


End file.
